


The First Time

by androgynope



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2doc - Freeform, Abusive Relationships, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Memories, Past Abuse, Phase One (Gorillaz), Short One Shot, Stockholm Syndrome, don't romanticize this, pre phase 1, this is supposed to horrify you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 17:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynope/pseuds/androgynope
Summary: First Kisses. First Fist Fights. First Acceptance. First Delusion.





	The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Abuse is spoken about. It is a part of this, and if you're triggered by physical abuse, manipulation, or implied stockholm syndrome, please close this tab.
> 
> This is not a romantic short. Don't read it that way. This is fucking disgusting.
> 
> Pre-Phase 1

Stuart Pot’s first kiss had been Janice Barnes, back in his first year of secondary school. His hair was still growing out, a short, blue mess, but she laughed at his jokes, and sat with him when his headaches got too bad for him to be in class. Eventually, sitting turned to hand-holding, and one day, in the nurse’s office, Stuart had leaned in and kissed her. Even in the fluorescent lighting of the office, it had been perfect, and Stuart believed nothing could ever beat that feeling. They dated for two months. Janice dumped Stuart when he caught her snogging Benjamin Phillips around the back of the bike shed.

Stuart Pot’s first boy kiss, however, had been a guy in a bar. He couldn’t remember his name; he didn’t know whether to blame the loud music or the head trauma, but that man was a dream. Of course, Stuart knew he liked women, but this guy solidified the fact that year, sometimes he thought about blokes too. It started with a drink, then they danced, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity of teasing touches and sly looks, their mouths melded together in the flashing lights of the club, at 2:13 AM. Maybe it was the amount of alcohol in his veins, but to Stuart, this was perfection, this feeling of being perfect for someone else, in such a disgusting place. They kissed until the club closed. Stuart denied the man’s offer of a nightcap back at his flat. He wished he hadn’t.

The first time Stuart Pot felt menacing pain was when he caught a fist to the jaw from Benjamin Phillips. He’d screamed at the other teenage boy, asking why the hell he was “comin’ onto my girl”, and Benjamin had beaten the absolute shit out of him, while Janice watched. Eventually, she pulled the boy off a bruised and bloodied Stuart, kissed the beaten boy’s cheek, and skipped off on Benjamin’s arm. Stuart had never felt worse, and it wasn’t just because of his split lip. That day, he vowed never to let anyone treat him like a punching bag again. That he would defend himself. That he would be stronger.

Then, there was the day he met Murdoc Niccals.  
Then, there was nothing.  
Then, there was headlights.  
Then, there was no Stuart.

The first time 2D accepted defeat, was when he caught his girlfriend Paula stumbling out of Murdoc’s Winne at midday, drunk off her ass and covered in lovebites. When she was gone, and Murdoc walked into the kitchen with a smug look on his face, 2D just handed the man a cup of coffee, and went to lay in the dark. He had a headache. He didn’t take any pills for it. He knew it wasn’t the fault of his injuries.

The first time 2D felt heavenly, was right now; and he had no idea why. He should have been scared. He was scared. Bloody terrified, he was, and everything ached. The press of fingers on his cracked ribs made him whimper, tears slipping out of his blank eyes, and he thought, “This is torture.” But then the press was followed by the slide of a tongue, and a rumbling voice in his ear. A voice that whispered,

“I made you. You need me.”  
And 2D smiled. Smiled as new bruises formed beside the old ones, making him cry out, and tremble, and beg for all of this to stop. But then gentle touches mixed into the equation, and he begged for more. Please. More. Part of him was disgusted, confused at why he was letting this happen. After all he’d been through, why was he letting himself get hurt? Why was he giving in? If for every ten bruises he got, he felt the pleasure of just one gentle touch, was it worth it?  
Looking down at Murdoc’s face on his stomach, those long, sharp fingernails leaving raised red marks along his already sore torso, 2D knew his answer, first and foremost. 

This was better than the kiss in the nurses office. Better than being shoved against a rough brick wall by a nameless man, tasting cider on his tongue. Better than being left to bleed on the schoolyard. Better than the crash. The coma. Better than anything had ever been. 

Because this was absolutely wrong. In the worst way. It wasn't alluring, or romantic. It hurt, and he loved it.  
2D knew that this pain was better than anything had ever been, than anything ever would be.

He smiled down at Murdoc, as a tear slid from his eye.

The first time 2D felt safe after that car crash, was in bed with the man that had taken his entire life away from him. He wouldn't have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Murdoc sweetie please get help ur not a bad person but ur doing shitty things go see a therapist i love you


End file.
